


Roadside Kill

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Flash Fic Night Prompts [36]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A broken down car can have its perks, unexpected as they may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roadside Kill

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this back in February but forgot to crosspost it. Of course I had to repair the offence :P

“So where did you learn to fix a car?”

 

Peg doesn’t reply right away, taking the wrench from Angie’s hand and fiddling with one part or another with annoyed grunts before she says:

 

“My grandmother’s farm. When her husband died she had to learn by herself—she roped me in and called it an experiment.”

 

Angie smiles as she tries to imagine a younger Peggy bent over an old motor with a whitening lady by her side, both of them groaning in annoyance with every out-of-place part they could find. Somehow, she assumes they didn’t use Howard Stark’s model of car, but that hasn’t deterred Peggy so she doesn’t let it deter her.

 

“At least it proves to be useful knowledge.”

“Very,” Peggy approves—she straightens up, and Angie’s stomach grows tighter with every pop of her spine. “I’ll teach you someday.”

 

Angie nods, and tries very hard to convince herself that walking up to Peg to kiss her silly out in the open is probably not the best idea. Even if night is falling and they haven’t seen anyone drive by for well over two hours. Even if Peg _really_ makes the sweat-and-grease covered look work for her.

 

“Close your mouth darling,” Peg says after a bit, a smirk playing on her lips, “You’ll swallow a mosquito.”

 

Angie doesn’t let herself think again before she walks up to Peggy, seizes her head in her hand, and kisses her silly right then and there. She hears the wrench clatter to the ground, feels it slide under her foot as she pulls Peggy toward the backseat of Stark’s car.

 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Peggy mutters as Angie tumbles back on the seat, twisting to close the door behind them.

“You afraid for the upholstery, English?” Angie teases, “We can stop if you want.”

“I’m sure this car has seen worse.”

 

 

The next morning finds them much too naked for decency, sweaty and bushy-haired, but the satisfaction in Peggy’s grin is unmistakable and, frankly, Angie can’t say she doesn’t share the sentiment.


End file.
